Walking down the main street of town,
I eye you with a cunning grin
accross your lips, smashing a cigarrette butt into the ground,
thinking,
you've got the best of me.
Well-- this is a gun-slinger showdown,
&& I've got my pearl handled pistol waiting on my hips,
a Marlboro red to my lips,
and my wits--
to keep me from falling for you again.
I refuse to go down without a fight;
it ends tonight.
You && I.
I'm not the one trick pony that i used to be;
I've got a few tricks still up my sleeves
&& I'm willing to bet my life that you'll never get the best of me.
(for once, this city girl is running free)
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